Without their weapons at their side, the four wolves could not help but realise just how naked they felt.  All the monks of the monastery seemed to be looking at the pack, and their eyes looked as though they were silently judging the repugnant display of nakedness that the wolves had dared to bring in with them.  The only wolf to feel even the slightest bit of comfort was Rience.  He had obtained himself a robe to wear from the monks, who took away his fake robes for cleaning and recycling into something new.  Now he blended in a little more, the youngest wolf felt a bit more comfortable with his surroundings.

What had surprised the young wolf was how many monks there were at the monastery.  Everywhere he looked he could see a brown robe walking around the grounds.  They were mostly occupied by canines, but there were a few felines of various species including a couple of tigers.  Neither of them looked to be much of a threat should their stay end in a battle but the wolf made a mental note of them all the same.  Sparring against his brothers had taught him that knowledge of the enemy is one of the most important things a fighter can have in his arsenal.

“It’s a shame we missed lunch,” Marrok grumbled, “I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry,” Foley commented, rolling his eyes.

“Reckon one of the ducks on the pond would be missed if we indulged in a spot of lunch?”

“Probably, I expect they’re guests here too,” Rience replied before pondering for a moment.  “Why not ask one of the monks if they can rustle you something up?  I’m sure they’d be more than happy to oblige.”

“And if they refuse I’m sure a little roughing up will always help persuade them,” Marrok agreed.

“You will do no such thing,” Foghlaidh hissed, turning to face the wolf with his teeth barred.  “We will blend in.  I didn’t teach you manners for you to blow our cover like that.  Be polite, respectful, and if the monks ask you to do something then you do it.  I don’t want to hear any complaining about being made to work even if it’s manual labour.  We will behave like guests until it is time to make our move.  That goes for all three of you.  Understood?”  Chimes of affirmation came from the trio.  Marrok looked sullen at the scolding but said nothing to his leader.  Rience knew that while his brother could be an idiot, even he was not as stupid as to raise a further complaint to his leader after he had spoken.

“So what’s the plan?” Foley asked once he was sure it was safe to do so.  The pack leader seemed to become lost in thought for a while, as if he was weighing up his options.

“We bide our time for now,” came the eventual reply.  The monks seem hospitable enough for now.  If they can replace Rience’s robes, I’m quite sure that we could ask for a fair amount and have it granted.  I have no intention of rocking the boat just yet though, so you can get the idea of lunch out of your head Marrok.”  The younger wolf turned very sullen at this remark.

“How about retiring for a while?” suggested Rience.  His paws ached as they had been walking for a long time.  “It would be useful to know if they have a dormitory and the layout of it.”

“Agreed,” grunted Foghlaidh.  “We’ll get some rest until dinner comes around.  I think better when I’ve got a belly filled with food.  We can plan our move tonight.”  The four wolves attracted the attention of the nearest monk and asked to be taken to their rooms.  The young canine took them to Hosteller Cabal and the great Dane showed the wolves to their rooms.

“Dinner will be served in the great hall shortly before sundown,” the monk said.  “A monk will call before we serve to remind you, should you wish to join us.  If not, you will find many of the monks in the kitchen will be more than happy to tend to your needs after the meal has finished.”  With a short bow, the dog left the group in a short corridor.  Four wooden doors, all on the same side of the wall, marked out where the wolves would be spending their nights at the monastery.  Being pack leader, Foghlaidh took the nearest door, with each wolf in turn taking the next door until Rience found himself at the very end door.  He opened the door and stepped inside, being instantly drawn to the bed he found in front of him.  Finding the door lock consisted of a plank of wood held in place on two hooks, the young woof locked his door and headed to the soft comfort of his single berth.  

From the room next door he could hear an argument as Foley seemed to be staging a hostile takeover of Marrok’s room, much to Marrok’s annoyance.  Rolling his eyes and laying his head on the pillow, Rience tried to fall into the embrace of sleep.  He could tell it was going to be a long evening and he wanted to be as ready for it as he possibly could.

***

Rience paced around in the small chamber that pretended to be a bedroom.  He had tried getting a little bit of rest but the bed, while comfortable enough for his needs, provided exactly no escape from the thoughts he had flying around inside his mind.  They mostly consisted of the trio of other wolves in his party.  Especially Foghlaidh and his murderous ways.  The fact that his leader needed a base of operations had not passed the young wolf by.  He knew the normal routine in situations like this was to wade in and risk life and limb in order to get what they wanted and although they had been forced to give up their weapons Rience knew that before long the monastery would feel the full force of Foghlaidh’s wrath.  There was just the small matter of the monks.  Not because the wolves were outnumbered, they had tackled far worse odds than that before.  Not to mention that Marrok would have no trouble at all picking the lock to the armoury to give them access to not only their weapons, but the weapons of the entire estate.  No, this time it was the fact that they were up against creatures of peace who probably could not fight.  This would make taking the monastery over quite simple but would probably enrage the other guests and almost anyone in the nearby area.  While there would be enough food to last a siege if it came to it, the other wolves would not tolerate a delay to their plan on that scale.  However, this time Rience had a plan.  The wolf just needed a little more time before suggesting it.

His racing mind was brought crashing back to reality to the soundtrack of a trio of surprising and loud bangs on his bedroom door.  Gathering his thoughts for a moment and trying to get a neutral facial expression, the young lupin went to the door and lifted the plank of wood that served as a rudimentary lock.  He was greeted by the brown cloak of an old English sheepdog.  The monk had his hood up, and it was only his nose that poked out of it.  Scraggly fur covered his eyes and the wolf wondered how well the old dog could actually see.  The body language of the monk seemed to suggest he was surprised to find another brown robed creature looking back at him, as if he had not realised Rience had been given one to replace the bedraggled garment he had previously worn while pretending to be a monk.

“G… Good afternoon,” the sheepdog started, apparently unsure if he should be using formal tones or if he could speak freely, monk to monk.  “I am Brother Derby.  I trust you have been enjoying your time here at our humble home so far.”

“Well,” Rience paused for a moment while he chose his words.  He knew he had to try to blend in and throw the monks off the scent that he and his brothers harboured malicious intent.  He took a quick glance around the room before putting on his best airs and graces.  “The room is a little sparse, but comfortable.  I could probably use another candle before the night is over though, as mine is almost extinguished.”

“It shall be done…” the dog paused as if expecting the wolf to offer his name.  It was not forthcoming so the monk continued.  “If it pleases our guests, we will be starting to serve dinner in the great hall shortly.  If you desire feeding please be making your way to the hall at your nearest convenience.  Thank you.”  With a short bow, the sheepdog finished his speech and withdrew from the door frame.  The wolf watched as the monk walked a short way along the corridor connecting the bedrooms until he came to the next wooden door.  His trio of loud knocks was met with a very stern reprimand from a voice which could only belong to Foley.

Shaking his head and retreating back into his room, Rience replaced the lock and sat on the end of his bed for a couple of minutes.  He was going to have to report Foley to Foghlaidh as his oldest brother was going to destroy their cover if he kept up with his current attitude.  That would probably earn him a kicking or two, but the mission was more important than his own well-being.  Thankful for the chance to be alone from the others for a short while, Rience unlocked his door again and slipped out of his room.  Dinner would be a good chance to see how the monks behaved during a meal without the others being around him and drawing all the attention.  Grim determination in mind, the youngest wolf exited the dormitory block and headed for the great hall.

***

“The great hall is rather well named,” Rience thought to himself as he climbed the small set of steps that led up to the large doors that opened onto the dining area.  It was thrice as long as it was wide and the lack of windows had been more than made up for by a barrage of ornate chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, each one holding enough candles to give the light of a second sun.  The grey stone walls were adorned with large wooden torches at regular intervals, providing extra light to compliment the candelabras on rows of tables that also ran down the length of the hall.  Two rows of tables with long benches next to them on either side provided the soon to be assembled animals with a place to eat and already a few monks were busy laying out a feast upon the tabletops.  

The wolf stood in the doorway as he watched organised chaos unfold before him.  The few monks milling around all seemed to have a role to play.  Some were lighting the final torches, monks with white aprons were bringing out the food and placing it on the tables, while a few were setting places and making sure that there would be enough cutlery and crockery to go around.  They all seemed to come and go through a small double door at the far end of the hall, dancing around each other like well trained acrobats as each monk performed his task.  The food being fetched from that Rience assumed as the kitchen brought water to the wolf’s mouth.  Succulent looking meats accompanied the expected bundles of vegetables and fruits.  Goblets were being filled with water and large jugs of a pale yellow liquid were being placed on a long table alongside the fancier foodstuffs.  It soon became obvious that this longer table was for the guests, while the monks made do with the less extravagant offerings.

The affair was being watched over by a stern looking Hosteller Cabal.  He directed the small collection of workers like an orchestra’s conductor with sweeping gestures of instruction while his minions followed his every silent command.  It was only when one of the monks made a pointed look in Rience’s direction did the great Dane pay any heed to the door.   With a short gasp, he walked over to the wolf and wrapped an arm around the shoulders of the visitor, a gesture the wolf reluctantly accepted.  The arm was not without motive, however, as Rience found it being a firm guide to start walking to the table with the nicer food upon it.

“Welcome to the great hall,” Hosteller Cabal announced in a voice slightly louder than the wolf would have liked, especially as they were side by side.  “As you can see, we’re not quite ready yet for the dinnertime feast to begin, but please be seated while we await for your colleagues and our other guests.  Once everyone is here, we shall begin.”

“Thank you,” Rience replied with a care to remember his manners around their host.  He allowed himself to be seated at the far end of the table.  Plates of fresh vegetables were within an arm’s length, as was a large roast duck.  There was the temptation to reach out and eat it there and then, but he restrained himself.  Instead he turned to the monk who was just about to leave and returned to his direction.  “That’s a delightful sight,” he said.  Hosteller Cabal nodded in agreement.

“She was just as pleasant in life as I hope you’ll find her in death.”

“She?”

“Yes,” Hosteller Cabal replied, taking a seat opposite the wolf.  “You see, most of the monks here are meat eaters and while we mostly get by on fish, every now and again we have a donation from one of the local communities.  Sometimes they come here to die and other times the corpses are transported here for the purpose of ending up as a meal.  It’s a little morbid when you think about it, but it’s a perfect gift for after death.  That way, we don’t have to rely on hunting to survive.  The community is rather good to us and our guests.”

“I’d never really thought about it that way before,” Rience admitted.  He certainly was not fussy about the species he had tucked into.  Knowing he was about to eat someone who the monks had known felt a little off-putting, however.  “So, if one of the monks died, would you eat them?”

“We never eat our own species,” the great Dane admitted.  “We are carnivores, not cannibals.  However, should we be playing host to someone who would have no qualms about it, we all have already consented to donating our earthly bodies to this fate once we pass on.  Once we are in the paws of our ancestors, we have no more use for them and it doesn’t seem fair to deny the rest of the population the opportunity to grow stronger from our remains.”  The conversation was disturbed by a russet-brown spaniel with a question about the serving of a hare.  Hosteller Cabal excused himself to the wolf and left to tend to the problem.

Rience found he was not the only customer in the hall for long.  One by one monks started appearing through the door and shuffling over to their respective tables.  Guests at the monastery came and took their seats on the same table as the wolf.  Hosteller Cabal made sure the guests left enough room next to the lone wolf for the rest of his group to sit next to him.  Rience wished he had not bothered.  It did not take long for the monk’s tables to be filled with monks who were not busy serving food or making sure everyone had everything they needed.  The guests trickled through into the hall at a far more casual rate.  Foghlaidh and his two remaining followers were among the last to enter, each casting a scowl at their pack member and taking their seats alongside him.  Foghlaidh made sure he was sitting between Foley and Rience.  The young wolf was not sure if that was to stop Foley attacking him, or to make it easier to do the job himself.

Any attempt to rebuke the young wolf was cut short by Hosteller Cabal banging a small gong to get everyone’s attention.  The abbot had arrived, and seemed to be the final participant in the meal.  With a deliberate looking grace, he took his seat at the head of one of the monk’s tables.  The doors to the great hall were closed and the Hosteller began a speech.

“My dear monks, Abbot Hodain, and honoured guests,” he announced in a loud voice.  The sound carried through the hall as if amplified by the walls so even those at the end of the room furthest away from the great Dane had no trouble in hearing him.  “We give thanks to all those who have come before us.  To the noble beasts who have given us their lives in order for us to continue ours.  To the lost brothers who have, over time, helped grow this great monastery and given their time, patience, love, and devotion to help it succeed.  To our guests past, present, and future for their courtesy and respect.  Finally to those who live and work here, tirelessly, in order to maintain our home and keep food in our bellies.  Without you, none of this meal would be possible and tonight we dine with appreciation and gratitude for your efforts and dedication.”

“Well said,” the abbot declared, rising from his seat.  “Ladies and gentle-beasts…  Let’s eat.”

***

The darkness of the setting spring sun was creeping in to eat the shadows of the trees in the orchard as the four wolves sat on the grass between them near the border of the monastery walls.  Their bellies full and all hunger sated.  The meal itself had been a surprising affair, filled with more chaos and noise than any of the pack had anticipated.  The serving monks had kept the food coming, however, until every diner had eaten their fill.  When the feasting had stopped, there was very little left over.  Just bones and any inedible parts of the vegetables and fruits, and they would be recycled into compost and soups.  It had taken a little while after the meal for everyone to wander off to their respective dormitory rooms or evening work areas but eventually the wolves were left alone.

Rience had found that Foghlaidh had not left his side since sitting down to eat.  The young wolf did not like all this attention from his leader.  He was more than aware of the filthy looks that both Foley and Marrok were shooting at him, ready to pounce the moment their leader would allow it.  The head of the pack did not allow it though.  Rience knew why they were upset with him.  He had gone off alone again and his brothers did not like it.  Eventually, when all the wolves could tell that there was nobody around within earshot Foghlaidh faced his youngest follower and, with a swift and unexpected motion, pinned him to the floor with his paws pressed heavily down on his victim’s throat.

“Care to tell me,” the pack leader growled with his nose almost pressed deep inside of Rience’s ear so that he did not have to raise his voice, “why we found your room empty before dinner?  Take your time, I have all night.”

“I…” Rience tried to reply, but he could not breathe with Foghlaidh crushing his windpipe.  Speaking was completely out of the question.  His brothers were quick to pin his limbs to prevent his fighting back.  They both wore a satisfied smile as if enjoying the torment their youngest sibling was facing.

“Well?”  The leader of the pack snarled, releasing his pressure just enough to give the trapped wolf a chance to explain himself.

“I was just doing what I was told,” Rience gasped.  He rushed a few deep breaths after he spoke in case the weight came down upon him again. ”Blend in, you said,” he continued when the force did not return.  “So I did, and I kept observing.”

“And probably spilling all our secrets to anyone with half an ear,” Marrok followed with a snarl.

“Don’t be an idiot,” the young wolf retorted.  His words earned him a punch in the gut from his brother, which made him yelp in pain.  “I’ve barely spoken with anyone.  A few monks have told me a few things about this place, but I’ve not told anyone anything about us.”

“Doing what you were told?”  Foghlaidh gave no indication he had paid heed to what the younger wolf had said to the second-eldest.  “Remind me,” he said with a heavy undertone of malice in his voice, “at which point did I tell you to split up from the rest of us?  At which point did I tell you to go wandering off on your own?  And at which point did I tell you to chat with the damn locals?”

“You never told me not to,” was the counter argument.  This time Rience earned a hard cuff across his maw for his troubles.  However the larger wolf released his pin and gave a rough shove to the two other wolves holding the omega down.  Rubbing his smarting snout, the wolf continued with what he was saying.  “As I said, I’ve been observing the monks, instead of acting like Foley and abusing them.”  This time it was the eldest brother who received a snarl and a filthy look from their leader.  “For instance,” Rience carried on, ignoring the death glare from Foley, “what did you see during the meal?”

“Food, idiot,” Marrok snorted, not making any attempt to hide the sarcasm and contempt in his voice.  “It was pretty hard to miss.”

“That’s because you can’t see ten feet in front of your stupid face,” Rience spat, angered by his brother’s attempt to undermine the attention he had created for himself.  He was ready to dodge the incoming fist when it was caught in mid-punch by Foghlaidh and squeezed until its owner yelped in pain.

“Continue,” the pack leader growled, turning to Rience.

“Well, there were four large tables in the hall,” he paused to look around to reaffirm that no one else was around and listening in.  Once he was satisfied the young wolf went on.  “It seems that every monk in the entire monastery was there, other than the chefs and servers.”

“So?”  Foley asked.  His expression was one of feigned disinterest, though it was obvious that he was trying to piece together what Rience was saying but missing a vital component of his point.

“This includes the Doberman who we handed our weapons to.  Meaning he does not guard the armoury all the time.”

“Including at night,” Marrok added with a triumphant smile.  “We could attack using the cover of darkness.  The lock would be an easy pick and we could take the place by force.”

“And wake everyone up in the process when we get caught by a night watchman,” Rience finished.  “Not a great move.”

“But during meal times, everyone’s eating…” Foley mused aloud, seeming to be on to something. His eyes lit up and a devious smile crept over his face.  His tail made slow swishing motions over the grass they were sat upon.  “If the Doberman is in the armoury, the door will be unlocked and we can rush him.  Any noise will be muffled by the noise of the meal.  And if the room is locked, then it stands to reason that it will be unguarded and therefore ours for the taking.”

“Exactly,” Rience said, nodding his head in agreement.  “A much better idea than just rushing in like we normally do.”

“For once an idea of yours has merit,” Foghlaidh conceded with a wry grin.  “Maybe you’re not such a lost cause after all.  Done right, we could wait here until the one known as Master arrives.”  The alpha sat for a few minutes, staring off into the middle distance.  The other three wolves lazed around while their leader appeared to be in thought.  As the last remnants of the setting sun vanished from view the leader snapped back to reality.

“Ready for your orders,” Foley confirmed as their leader looked his way.”

“Good, Foley I want you to keep an eye on that armoury.  I want to know who goes in, who comes out, if anyone is taking anything in or out of that room.  If so much as a grain of sand blows under that door, I want it in a report.  Understand?”

“Yes sir,” the oldest brother replied with a curt nod.

“Marrok,” Foghlaidh continued, “you are to scout around to see what vantage points there are.  I need to know every possible angle that gives even the slimmest view of the armoury.  I want to know where shadows fall, where footsteps can be heard, who might be able to watch us, and from where they could be watching.  Got it?”

“Understood,” Marrok confirmed his understanding with a curt nod of his own.

“What about me?” Rience asked.  With his brothers getting all the important tasks to do, the young wolf was at a loss as to what part he could play.

“Oh, I’ve got a very special job for you.”  Foghlaidh almost broke into a callous chuckle as he grabbed his youngest charge by the muzzle and pulled him close.  The words he spoke made Rience’s heart leap in both joy and confusion.  “You’re getting that education I know you’ve always wanted.  It’s time you properly learnt how to read.”